


What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

by Danarius



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Assassination, Crime, Dinner, Drabble, Drama, F/F, Friendship, Gay, JUST KISS ALREADY, London, Murder, Noodles, Romance, Season 3, Tower Bridge, are you leading or am i
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danarius/pseuds/Danarius
Summary: Villanelle turns around to see Eve looking back at her.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Niko Polastri, Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Kudos: 117





	What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?

The evening traffic of Tower Bridge honked by, completely unaware of the extraordinary scene playing out before them.

Eve and Villanelle faced each other. Neither could quite believe it.

Eve Polastri. She’d always considered herself rational. Sensible-ish. She was happy when she was comfortable. Not a big risk-taker and usually liked to keep things fairly simple. Until now. Now this literal bombshell had crashed into her life at terminal velocity, spraying everyone in the vicinity with shrapnel and leaving Eve inexplicably unscathed.

Villanelle. The bombshell. An unhappy little girl thrust into an even unhappier world. She thought herself rational too. It was the rest of the world that was crazy. She had never really considered her own mortality. The job was dangerous, but she was somehow above it all. She had been floating through life with uninterrupted bliss. Until now. Until Eve _damn_ Polastri.

Adrenaline was rushing through Eve’s body. She realised with some dismay that her eyes had been stinging with tears, until Villanelle had turned around. She thought she saw her smile. What the hell was she thinking? Why couldn’t she just walk away? She had _more_ than enough reason to. But she didn’t. She couldn’t. And neither could Villanelle.

The assassin had not expected to see Eve’s face again. She had stared long and hard before they parted, committing every detail to memory. It was always _her_ that seemed to choose Eve. Never the other way around. But when she turned, there Eve’s face was. Villanelle felt that familiar buzz of adrenaline. She could scarcely hear the roar of the cars beside them. Her heart was hammering in her ears. This wasn’t what was meant to happen, but then she had never been one for following rules.

Villanelle started walking, and so did Eve.

_“Here’s one for you. What happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?”_

Niko’s question echoed in Eve’s mind as she neared the assassin. It was a riddle he always asked his students at the start of the year. The two could not both exist in the same universe. Eve wondered whether she and Villanelle could exist in the same universe. What would happen if they tried? If past events were anything to go by, disaster. But Eve couldn’t bring herself to walk away, and neither could Villanelle.

They met in the very spot which they had left and stopped. Neither spoke. They just stared. Both seemed a little amazed at the other, even though all they had done was walk.

On this rare occasion, Villanelle felt almost shy. She wasn’t sure how to interpret Eve still being here. She knew how she _wanted_ to interpret it. But the scar in her abdomen spoke for itself. Eve sometimes gave mixed messages. But this time felt different, and Villanelle figured that if she was going to take a leap, a bridge was the perfect place.

They were less than a metre apart. Villanelle leaned forward a millimetre, then a few more.

Eve didn’t lean in, but she didn’t lean away either.

Just as Villanelle was about to pounce, Eve spoke.

“I’m starving.”

Villanelle cocked her head. “What?”

Eve grinned sheepishly. “I haven’t eaten since this morning. Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

This wasn’t what either of them had expected.

“Sure.” Villanelle smirked and felt rain on her neck. “Where?”

Eve winced as a boom of thunder suddenly rocked the sky. “There’s a takeaway near my…that way.”

Villanelle didn’t miss her pause but started walking in the direction she’d gestured.

What had been a peaceful evening was soon replaced by a vicious storm. Eve couldn’t help thinking, as she tugged a hood over her already damp head, that it was an omen of things to come. But she couldn’t worry about that now. She felt bad for Villanelle. The assassin’s shoulder were hunched around her chin in discomfort. Her coat had no hood and meant that she was soaked through without minutes.

They walked quickly through the rain. Villanelle cursed when she trod in a puddle, and shot daggers at a car that splashed yet more water over her shoes.

“Can we get a taxi?”

“What!?”

“Can we get a _taxi_!” Villanelle bellowed over the wind.

“Sorry!” Eve pointed. “It’s just around the corner!”

Villanelle’s grumbles were lost to the storm. It was not often that she was uncomfortable. She had a menagerie of warm clothes and a bathtub that could fit an orchestra in her villa in Barcelona. But she was stuck in cold, wet London.

She felt a tug on her hand. Eve was pulling her down an alley on the left when she had been about to continue straight. Villanelle smiled a little at Eve’s freezing hand gripped around her own, and felt the imprint after she had let go.

They arrived at a tiny Chinese takeaway and staggered through the door. Villanelle felt like a drowned rat.

Eve had not faired any better. She went over to the counter a quickly ordered an assortment of noodles and chicken. Then she tentatively looked over at the assassin, who’d slumped down into a chair.

Villanelle looked at Eve for a second and then to the guy on the till. She ordered vermicelli, dumplings and crab claws in perfect Mandarin.

Both Eve and the cashier stared at Villanelle for a moment. The assassin was busy wringing water from her hair. When Eve got out her card to pay, the cashier gave her a look. The Korean rolled her eyes.

When it was ready, Eve brought the food over to the table Villanelle was sitting at.

“Good. Let’s go.”

Eve looked at her questioningly. “Don’t you want to eat?”

“Yes. But not here.” She looked around the shop and pointedly wrinkled her nose. “It’s dirty.”

There was a loud huff from the cashier that the women ignored.

“Oh…”

“You said you live near here.”

“Yeah…” Eve rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “It’s just…I mean I don’t live in that house anymore. Since…y’know…”

“I ended your marriage,” Villanelle said bluntly.

Eve felt heat rushing to her cheeks and guilt in the pit of her stomach. “It’s not that. My new place…well it isn’t exactly The Ritz.”

Villanelle shrugged. “I’ve stayed in The Ritz. It’s overrated.”

“Of course you have,” Eve said, rolling her eyes again in bemusement.

“I don’t mind. Not if you don’t.”

Villanelle held her gaze for a moment and they felt like they were back on the bridge.

_What could possibly go wrong?_

“Alright.”

They collected up the food and stepped back out into the rain.

It wasn’t far at all. They had barely walked a hundred metres before Eve was fiddling with her keys whilst balancing a stack of boxes in her other hand. The front door didn’t open all the way and they had to squeeze through.

The hallway smelt musty from the rain. Villanelle noted a damp patch on the carpet.

Eve started climbing the creaky stairs, feeling the energy drain from her with every step. Her head was still reeling from the day’s events. Carolyn shooting Paul. Carolyn almost shooting Konstantin. Kenny. All of it. But right now she needed food. The rest could wait.

They reached the second floor and stopped outside the closest door. Eve fumbled with the keys again and eventually unlocked the floor to her flat.

“Sorry I didn’t tidy up. I wasn’t really expecting visitors.” Eve stepped through the door and went over to the nearest table. She dumped her takeaway on it and then started wriggling out of her coat.

Villanelle surveyed the flat from the doorway. It was very different to the cosy house she’d invaded some time ago. The whole flat was one room aside from the bathroom. There were clothes strewn everywhere. Dirty cups. A conspicuous collection of empty wine bottles by the bed. A moth-eaten sofa crammed against the opposite wall. It didn’t look like the home of a happy person.

It was the polar opposite to her luxury abode in Spain. In any other situation she would have taken one look and left. But this wasn’t a normal situation.

“This is awful.”

Eve looked at her with exasperation. “Thanks.”

Villanelle shot her a mischievous smirk. “It’s…good-awful.”

For the third time tonight, Eve rolled her eyes. “You suck at compliments.”

The assassin wasn’t quite sure what she meant by the comment. The flat might look like a safe haven for rats, but it felt far more personal than her own home did. She liked the Spanish villa, but it never really felt like her own. Just a place that she stayed in. _This_ place felt like Eve’s.

“Oh god.” Eve was looking horror-struck at her reflection in a tiny mirror by the bed. Her curly hair had taken on a life of its own thanks to the rain. She ran a hand through, trying to flatten it somewhat.

“Leave it. It’ll dry.”

Eve gave Villanelle a quizzical look but let her hair be.

They unboxed the food and forked it out onto a couple of plates. Villanelle was relieved to see that the plates were clean. She had also untied her coat from around her neck and draped it over Eve’s.

Eve handed Villanelle’s food to her, smiling a little. “Uhhh…Do you want a blanket or something? You look kinda cold.”

Villanelle _was_ freezing. The coat had done nothing to protect her from the rain, and now her clothes were stuck to her. She nodded.

Eve yanked a picnic blanket from under the bed and handed it to her, and Villanelle quickly wrapped her shivering body.

The sofa was too small, so they kicked off their shoes and sat in the bed to eat their food. Villanelle pulled the duvet up over her chest for warmth. The assassin that was normally so elegant and put together now matched the dismal apartment. Eve took one look and started laughing.

Villanelle raised an eyebrow at her with her mouth full.

“Sorry,” Eve chuckled. “It’s just…I don’t know. This feels too normal.” She picked at her chicken with a fork, avoiding eye contact. “Not really our style is it.”

Villanelle smirked again. “We’ve been in bed before.”

The other woman looked at her. “And how did that go?”

“Well, we’re even now.”

Eve shook her head in disbelief and laughed again.

Villanelle realised she’d never seen Eve laugh. Not properly. It was nice. She felt a warmth inside that dared her to join in. But she didn’t.

“If it makes you feel better, I could think of a hundred ways to kill you right now.” Villanelle held up her fork. “With this.”

“How romantic,” Eve said flatly. “Can the killing wait until I’ve finished eating?”

She conceded.

They chewed in silence for a while. An international assassin and an ex-MI6 operative eating takeaway together in bed. A supposed psychopath and a woman she’d attempted to murder. You could not have found a more unlikely pair.

Once again, Eve broke the silence. “What did you mean by what you said to Konstantin?”

“Hmm?” Villanelle had a noodle daggling from her mouth.

“You said ‘you’re not family’. What did you mean?”

“Oh.” Villanelle finished her mouthful and considered the question. “Well he isn’t.”

“And I _am_?”

Villanelle shrugged.

Eve nudged her, curious to coax out whatever had made Villanelle say that.

Villanelle wasn’t sure if it was discomfort she felt or something else. The cold indifference she was used to was strangely absent. She’d never talked about this with anyone before. Family was still such a foreign concept that she didn’t even know what it meant. But she knew that it wasn’t Konstantin.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly.

“No. I guess I don’t either.” Eve sighed.

“Maybe it’s this.”

Eve grinned. “We’re setting the bar pretty low if it is.”

Villanelle watched Eve smile and tried to match it. That warmth grew.

Eve took another bite of food.

The assassin decided to try something. She moved her left hand a few centimetres until it was next to Eve’s right hand. The thump of her heart was unusual. Normally she could hook a pretty girl in with a wink and a few charming words without feeling a thing. Now she was psyching herself up to touch Eve’s hand. It felt like another leap of faith, but what did she have to lose? She lay her hand on top of Eve’s.

No one moved at first. It was new territory that neither of them knew how to navigate.

Then, slowly, Eve’s hand relaxed. She turned it so it was face-up and Villanelle could hold it.

Villanelle realised that she’d been holding her breath and exhaled. Then she said something Eve didn’t expect.

“I think you ruined my life.”

Eve gave her a slightly incredulous look. “How?”

Villanelle smiled. “I lost my job. Lost my best friend. Lost my wife. All thanks to you.”

“Really? You’re going there?” Eve blinked. “Wait, what wife?”

“It was brief.” Villanelle’s eyes narrowed a little in amusement. “Why? Jealous?”

Eve shook her head with a titter. “You’re unbelievable.”

“I thought it sounded poetic.”

“Yeah you nailed it.” Eve’s smile dropped a little. “Do you really think I ruined your life?” She squeezed her hand.

The genuine concern startled Villanelle. It was not often offered to her. She was thinking of everything that had happened to Eve as a consequence of her actions. She had had a safe job at MI5, and then a less-safe job at MI6. Now she had neither thanks to her. The moustached friend and husband were both gone because of her. She was living in this dingy apartment because of her. By all rights Eve should _hate_ her. And yet here they were together.

Any textbook in the world would tell you that Villanelle couldn’t feel guilt. But something was bleeding through the cracks ever so slightly. Something inexplicable.

“No. I think you saved it.”

“That _is_ poetic.”

Villanelle laced her fingers between Eve’s. There was a beat. A very palpable beat.

“You’re not a monster Oksana.”

Villanelle looked sharply at her. “Don’t call me that.”

“I mean it.”

The blaze in Villanelle’s eyes subsided slowly. She didn’t realise how much she’d been wanting to hear someone say that until now. The simple validation reverberated through her body. That warmth again.

Their food lay abandoned. The two women too consumed by each other.

“What do you think happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?”

Villanelle shrugged. “I don’t know. Explosion? Fire? The annihilation of mankind?”

Eve couldn’t help but chuckle. “Good answer.”

She knew she was crazy letting Villanelle back into her life. It was unthinkable bearing in mind all their history. She knew, looking at those cat-like eyes, that she was taking a risk. Maybe the biggest of her life. But it didn’t matter. It wasn’t important. She felt like, well, Villanelle. She didn’t care what anyone else was going to think. She’d been trying for so long to make sense of everything that maybe now was the time to let go.

“I’m scared,” Villanelle said, though she didn’t look it. She said it more as a statement of fact, not afraid of how Eve might react.

“I know.” Eve finally leaned forward and brushed her thumb against Villanelle’s cheek. “But I’m scared too. And I’m gonna need you to help me figure this out.”


End file.
